


Since When Was That A Thing?

by Uninhabitable



Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: AAU's, Additional warnings inside authors notes, And they'll all get one eventually, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, It's kinda all over the place, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags Are Hard, The one-shot collection no one asked for but everyone wanted, They all need a hug, au's, but that's okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-20 02:12:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16546844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uninhabitable/pseuds/Uninhabitable
Summary: Who asked for a one-shot collection?No one...Who's getting one anyway?Everyone who secretly was waiting for one.





	1. Glow in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an AU.
> 
> Slight blood and gore warning.

"You missed a spot." Donnie pointed out, gesturing lazily to the glowing streak of neon orange obnoxiously refusing to dim in the dark atmosphere of the room that his younger brother failed to cover.

Mikey groaned, but continued dipping two fingers in the thick green paint sitting between the duo, swirling them around in the viscose liquid before drawing them out. Donnie watched with a small grin as Mikey carefully covered the last spot of glowing scales on his shoulder, tongue sticking out in concentration as he tried his best not to move.

"There we go.  _Now_ no one will spot you." The genius turtle yawned, his own glowing patterns naturally adorning his scales emitting a vibrant mix of violet and lavender. The room the two turtles were currently residing in was almost pitch black, the only source of light being their very own bodies, which were seemingly plastered with bright neon displays of both rigid geometrical shapes, as well as aesthetic round and curved shaped designs, respectively. 

Being born with glaring lights on your body that would only glow in the dark had it's perks, of coarse. Mikey used to be afraid of the dark until his marking started glowing when he was around six, and Donnie can get away with doing his latest projects in the dead of night, where his own scales provide him light. 

Of coarse this meant that being stealthy and 'blending in' with their surroundings came as a struggle for the four mutants.

"You sure I got all of it?" Mikey asked, rubbing the access paint on his thigh uncaringly.

It only took one glance from the older turtle before he subtly nodded, spreading his cramping legs to stretch out the sore muscles. Mikey hummed in content, jumping to his feet before executing a flawless twirl, abruptly stopping to face Don with a determined look, dramatically whipping his arm out to point at his older brother.

"Your turn!" He chirped, pointedly ignoring Donnie's groan of annoyance as the youngest grabbed the already paint-splattered brush from the ground, swirling it into the thick mixture.

"Can't Leo go this time?" Don complained, yet made no attempt at moving when Mikey started slathering a generous amount of dark green acrylic paint over top of his glow-in-the-dark markings.

"Leo is  _crippled_ Don!" Mikey whisper-shrieked, once again dipping the paintbrush to retrieve more of the thick liquid medium.

"If your definition of crippled is a large bruise on his shoulder, you've got another thing coming." Don muttered, biting back another jaw-cracking yawn as his youngest brother continued his delicate work. 

A few quiet minutes passed between the two, filled with nothing but their own soft breathing and the quiet stroke of Michelangelo's brush. But knowing the youngest turtle, this silence would soon be sliced by his voice in just about-

"Wouldn't it be easier to just go out, glowing scales and all?" 

Ah, there it was. Don internally chuckled.

"Mikey, for the hundred and twenty-second time, our target would see us from a mile away. I mean, come on! Haven't you even thought of the variables? Pitch black, moving neon markings?" Mikey let his older brother drone on about the terrible odds and inconveniences they would experience if they tried completing a mission without covering their bright patterns, and how if they were to continue without their cheap cover paint, they'd stick out like blood on a white table.

"-not to mention the police-"

"Done!" The orange-banded turtle announced, hopping back up to examine his handy work as Donnie just slowly clawed his way to his feet, stretching his slightly stiff joints, and sighing in relief when he earned a few pleasurable pops in return. 

"Well done Micheal. Now let's just get this stupid mission over with." Don clearly expressed his distasteful opinion on the matter at hand with words that dripped with border line fatigue and irritation. Mikey simply ignored the hidden complaint, granted he's dealt with all of his older brother's foul moods at least a dozen times over to know what to do.

Cheerfully exiting the dark room, the small boxed turtle hummed quietly to himself as he sout out his other siblings who were currently uncalled for. Slithering into the living room, the orange-banded teen couldn't help but grin as he walked into a literal visual description of a 'lazy Sunday afternoon'.

Leo was draped in an undignified heap on the couch, his feet dangling off the head of the furniture piece, while his head nodded to some secret tune probably blasting through the white headphones attached to the mobile device. The teen's blue bandana tails just barely brushed the stone floor with each head bob Leo subconsciously preformed.

Of coarse he was upside down. 

Raph one the other hand was scrolling through something on his tablet, large eyes occasionly flicking back to the opposite side of the screen before trailing down once more to the opposing side.

Probably reading.

"Yo, Raph. We're heading out now." Mikey informed his oldest sibling, who didn't even bother taking his eyes off the dim screen of his tablet.

"K'. Bring home some pizza while your at it. You already know your limit?"

Rolling his eyes, Mikey grinned.

"No later than five. Okay~! See ya' mom!"

Giggling at the huff of indignition he received from his comment, Mikey jogged up to the large collective sewer tunnel opening that lead topside. Donnie was already there, tapping some sort of code into the screen adorning his forearm. Though once he saw his youngest brother approach, the reptile quickly shut off the document and planted his staff to the ground, leaning dangerously over his weapon.

"Ready to go Micheal?" He asked nonchalantly, stifling the yawn that tried to break the barrier of his beak.

"Ye." Mikey replied simply, stepping through the entrance of their home.

Nodding, Donnie professionally twirled his tech bo with practiced hands, gracefully retracting the staff to a pocket sized stick before plopping it into his belt.

"Let's get this done before it starts to rain. The forecast gave a solid 89% chance of showers tonight." The purple-clad turtle informed absent-mindedly as he followed the much shorter turtle through the door way and into the main 'corridor'.

...

Leaping over a particularly large gap between two buildings, Mikey laughed aloud as his body surged with adrenaline, his mind sharpening as the crisp night air filled his lungs. The polluted New York sky was dotted with the odd star that managed to peak past the veil of darkening rain clouds rolling over the east side of the city, and even now, Mikey could smell the faint scent of fresh rain lingering in the air. The atmosphere around them was electric, filling the boxed turtle with giddy energy as he further sped up his pace.

"Yo Donnie! How much further?" The orange-masked turtle yelled towards his genius brother, who with his long legs, managed to close the distance between the two turtles befire responding.

"The mutant were targeting is disguised as a, for lack of better term, buff guy who lives four blocks from here, in one of those large bluish apartments in the distance over there, do you see those?"

Mike nodded, feeling excitement bubble up his stomach and into his throat, and the turtle suddenly had to fight back the urge to squeal in glee.

As the two paint-covered mutants neared their destination, Mike pulled out his  _kusari-fundo_ , skillfully twirling the unevenly balanced weapon as if it came naturally to him. From his peripheral, Mikey noticed his older brother expertly extend the  _tech bo_ he invented, resting it across the back of his forearm as he continued to run.

Mikey was never one for solid, inflexible weapons. He found tools like the  _nunchaku_ way more cooperative. It was like an extended limb, in the sense that it could bend with or without his consent. Weapons that had a definite shape was, to him, like sticking a stick in place of your arm (when Leo had mentioned how his  _odachi sword_ was like a third arm to him)

Unfortunately, having been slightly distracted by monitoring his older brother and spacing out, Mikey failed to notice the upcoming gap before him until it was too late. Where his foot was suppose to falling onto solid rooftop, now kicked into nothingness as the rest of his body plummeted downwards, catching speed with each second in his rapid descend.

Biting back a scream that fought to escape his throat, the orange-banded turtle instinctly swung his weapon forward, watching it anxiously with side eyes as the extended chain quickly wrapped around the apartment's pull-down ladder. As it securely held its place, Mikey gripped the chain with one hand, and yanked at the handle with the other, forcing the long chain-link to swing him forward toward the ladder with all the momentum he gained with his short fall.

Mikey crashed gracelessly into on of the thick metal railings, clinging to it while he caught his lost breath. A dull yet noticeable pain throbbed on his forehead, as well as the young blisters burning at his fingertips from sliding down abruptly on the  _kusari-fundo._

Suddenly, a voice cut through the jumbled mess of thoughts and the slight ringing in his head, and Mikey almost sighed in relief when he heard his brother scramble down just above him.

"Micheal!" Don burst out, the increasing worry imbeded within his words. "Are you alive?"

The boxed turtle let out a chuckle despite the situation at how stupid the question was, even more so that it was asked in the most genuinely sincere tone  _ever._

"Yeah. Yeah I'm fine. Just didn't see the drop off." Mikey answered, flicking his wrist as if to silently convinve his brother that he was fine. Gathering his barrings with one final deep inhale, Mikey started crawling back up the ladder.

"How do you even miss something like that?" Donnie asked, tilting his head, subconsciously checking his youngest brother over for any serious injuries once they were standing on even grounds again.

The orange-loving teen just shrugged, rubbing at his forehead where he was sure the ladder lightly scraped it. 

"I'll be fine. Let's just keep moving. I really don't wanna' miss the movie marathon." Mikey stated with a slight whine to his voice, which _really_ assured Donnie that he would be fine.

"You only say that cause' Leon will claim the entire sofa againassured somehow." Donnie quickly corrected, jogging up to the edge of the building before leaping, Mikey close on his tail. 

"Do you  _know_ how uncomfortable the floor is?!"

Soon the chattering duo spotted the rapidly nearing building they were targeting, their victim obvious to the treacherous pair of reptile's fast approaching it.

Mikey silently slid to a halt, perched on the edge of a hotel right across from the apartment he was eyeing. Donnie didn't stop though, instead leaping from the ledge, kicking off the slightly elavated edge and sending himself flying several feet from the hotel, all the while spinning his staff above his head. In a split second, Donnie flawlessly preformed a flip to conclude his descend, neatly landing on one of the many patios adorning the building. Donnie inclined his head towards his youngest brother, maturely sticking his tongue out at him. Mikey smirked, straightening his back as he stood at the edge of the hotel roof, about 30 feet above ground, silently accepting the challenge Donnie silently set.

Then, with the small smirk still plastered on his face, the boxed turtle blew a raspberry at his genius brother before plummeting toward the ground without a second throught.

Donnie rolled his eyes, flipping his oddly-shaped goggles right above his eyes before quickly scanning the proximaty of the area for any other mutant DNA signatures. After a few tense seconds, he was rewarded with nothing.

Sliding his goggle-like headset up above his brow once more, Donnie jumped up to the second patio, hazardously close to falling backwards before jumping again. 

As the purple-clad teen reached the seventh floor, where their target was situated, he felt a rush of air shoot upwards behind his shell, followed by an unprecedented urge to smack Mikey upside the head when a heavy thud sounded above him.

"Why don't you stomp a little louder Micheal, I don't think Pennsylvania heard you." Donnie whisper shrieked, voice dripping with sarcasm as his younger brother held the decency to look sheepish at the level of noise he was producing.

Rolling his eyes (Mikey sincerely thought Donnie was going to strain something with the amount of intensity he put into the action) the purple-clad turtle continued making his way to the designated protruding patio, curling his toes around the cool railing of their little mutant foe's deck as Mikey made his way slowly to the large tinted glass door, which was currently covered with a tan-coloured curtain, judging by the color.

Nodding, Donnie stamped down the glee that had begun to build up in his chest as he watched Mikey break the lock adorning the sliding door's thick white frame with his weapon, smoothly opening the entrance, and letting a soft, wet breeze flutter into the room.

Narrowing his eyes, Donnie crept into the dark, decently sized and furnished living room, his eyes flickering around the area and taking in every little detail about the place. Well, as much as he could make out in the nearly pitch black house.

Don had been able to make out the few empty picture frames hung on the sky-blue painted walls, above the single maroon sofa that sat opposite to the thin-framed Samsung television embedded within the wall. A dark oak desk had been placed just below the TV, with closed draws and a single vase holding numerous unknown flowers Donnie couldn't see because of the darkness.

Suddenly, he heard a low growling of some sort, one that kind of reminded him of a tiger. A blur of orange and black flew past the kitchen, landing on the bar table with an impressive  _thud._

"Who's there!?" It snarled, though the hint of fear still came through in its question. The sound of claws clicking against marble echoed through the room as tensions grew between the three mutants by the second. Donnie shifted his stance while Mikey crouched a little lower. The mutant's hackles raised, and it bared it's impressive fangs that gleamed in the early moon's light.

And just like that, thr atmosphere was broken with a single outraged roar. The semi-hidden  _demon_ lunged right where Mikey was crouched, slashing it's apparent long claws at the boxed turtle. Mikey barely managed to dodge the blow, conducting three majestic back flips to put a bit of distance between him and the mutant.

But the monster, obvious to Donnie's presence, pounced on his youngest brother once more; the latter skillfully managing to stay clear of the knife-like claws of the enemy.

Donnie simply watched in half despair, half confusion, and half shock as the battle raged on. Questions spiraled around his mind as he barely registered the fight being played out before him.

How does this mutant know exactly where Mikey is? How come  _he_ hasn't been spotted yet? Does it have and strong sense of smell? Or maybe be perceives the world through a series of different vibrations?

Suddenly, a neon flash crossed his vision, blaring out obnoxiously in the almost pitch black room, and pulling Don out of the hurricane of thoughts swirling inside his brain. Donnie's eyes trailed the orange streak as it zoomed elegantly around the room, the mutant following it like a cat having spotted a mouse.

And that's when it hit him.

Donnie quickly recalled their earlier incident when Mikey fell. He was rubbing his forehead after they had climbed back to safety. He had waved it off as just a bruise, but it had never occurred to him that  _some of the paint may have scratched off too._

To be fair, the city was still fairly lit, with the dipping sun sinking just below the horizon line, and offering it's last streaks of light before submitting to the darkness that the moon brought when it arose from its slumber. Donnie probably never noticed because the atmosphere wasn't dark enough to activate the glowing segment of their markings.

And now Mikey was beings targeted because of a lousy neon orange circle in the dead center of his forehead

Gritting his teeth in irritation, Donnie brought his forearm to his eyes, looking at the dry green paint that covered his own glowing markings. Was this really worth it? The mutant would surely spot him at once. This wouldn't even help the situation. This wouldn't even fit the proper moral of things.

A loud thud sounded from somewhere in the kitchen, and that was all Donnie needed to make up his mind.

_Screw the morals._

The genius turtle vigorously rubbed his forearms and face, feeling pieces of paint fall to the ground like green snowflakes.

Suddenly, with an outraged cry, the monster turned to pin Mikey to the ground, and was successful for half of its plan. Large black claws dug into Mikey's plastron as the mutant lowered its hideous head down, large, pearly white teeth inched from Mikey's forehead.

"And here I thought you would be fine on your own, Micheal." Donnie articulated, and smirked when the monster whirled it's ugly feline head towards the blaring purple markings that now moved across the darkness, like luminescent fish in a black ocean, never giving away the turtle's true identity.

Fear clawed at the mutated feline's heart when it spotted the apparently floating geometric markings that let out an eerie hue, chills slithering down its ragged spine as it watched, almost memorized by the rippling purple lights. Perplexed by the movement, yet afraid of moving, the monster was left to let go of Mikey and dip it's head towards the ground, eyes never leaving Donnie's advancing form. It's claws clacked against the marble tabletop as it tried to shrink in on itself when Donnie was within arms length.

And then suddenly, the mutant let out a strangled cry of surprise as a long knife slid through its back, reappearing on the other side of his chest, only this side had thick red liquid dripping from the silver metal. 

Letting out a pathetic mew, the mutant collapsed from its perch on the table within seconds of being stabbed, falling with a loud  _thump_ the ground. It's body lay limp, blood starting to pool out onto the wooden floor.

"Let's burn it before the mess becomes too big." Donnie stated nonchalantly, one of the many robotic arms attached to his battle shell tossing a fire-insulator bag to his younger brother, who merely caught it with ease and began wrapping the large, bloody body. As Mikey tied the last knot and began pushing the packed remnant of the mutant to the window, Donnie had taken the time to fish out a pen and write and small message to the owner of the apartment on a small card.

_Sorry for the mess._

Nodding in satisfaction, Donnie placed the card right in the center of the pool of blood, stalking over to help Mikey haul the wrapped body off the patio.

...

"That had become a lot more difficult then anticipated." Donnie muttered, turning away from the now burning carcass and climbing up the fire wall, Mikey following in suit. A steady drizzle from before had now shifted into pelting rain, which made burning the body a bit more difficult. They had managed to hide it in one of the many dumpsters of New York though, so the garbage man will have a small gift which included body ashes and a bloody fire-bag.

Weirder things  _have_ happened though.

Presently, the duo rejoiced in the fresh rain, letting it wash away the cracked and itchy paint off their scales as they walked home. Lighting lit the sky with terrifying magnificence. A booming roll of thunder quickly followed, the vibration reverting deep in the turtle's bones.

"Hey. You know what. It kinda' looks cool, having your markings look like glowing patterns dancing around with no body." Mikey suddenly pointed out, appreciating the beauty of the scene, while sending his condolences for whoever had to fight them while they were in the dark. It was really freaky to see glowing scales advancing on you.

"Yeah. It's also highly more comfortable without having that scratchy paint all over out bodies." Donnie agreed, eyeing Mikey's more circular and swirling patterns that illuminated the dark around them, while not giving away Mikey's entire form. 

Donnie suddenly grinned.

"I think we've come to an agreeable conclusion."

Mikey nodded enthusiastically, a smile plastered on his face as his eyes shone with new found excitement. 

From then on, the boys completed their assassinations in a new,  _glowing_ style.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;)


	2. Your Still A Child Too

It was when his shell had first gotten stuck trying to climb into a small cavern opening at the age of six did he first  _realize_ that he was much bigger then his brothers. Back then, Raph hadn't given too much thought to their individual sizes, only accepting the fact that  _surely they were all pretty close and so it doesn't really matter right?_

Mikey, back then being the tiny little boxed turtle he was (though now when Raph thinks about it not much has changed in that thought), merely crawled through with ease, giggling as he easily vanished to the other side before any of his brothers could stop the squirt. This left the other three turtles obligated to follow their youngest sibling before he got hurt, Leo a little more urgently than the two eldest (courtesy of the silent agreement between the family that Mikey was Leonardo's responsibly). Leo had to squish his limbs together to get in, but he ended up getting  _through_ non the less. Despite the small scratches he gained on his shins, as well as the particular annoying cut on his shoulder, the slider entered the sewer cavern with minimal struggle.

Donnie; even back when he was still figuring out how to disassemble the engine of a truck at the age of five, constantly wore all sorts of weird incomprehendably high-tech gear that he managed to build from spare parts their father would collect for the young genius. So when Leo had disappeared through the hole, Donnie was hesitant to go after his two little brothers. His machines were precious to him, Raph knew this even as a tot. And the sympathy that built up in his gut when one of Donnie's inventions broke the snapping turtles heart. Donatello worked day and night to finish his latest project, only to indulge in two more once his current task was completed. The soft-shelled turtle poured his heart and soul into his inventions tha same way Raph did with his knitting (as a kid he was always attracted to the idea of creating clothing for his family; it ended up being quite enjoyable)

So after some coaxing and convincing, Donnie peeled off his little gadgets, gently placing them near the opposite wall of the huge sewer tunnel the siblings had previously been exploring before squishing himself into the opening, and like Leo, got through with minimal struggle.

And at that point, staring into the opening with mixed emotions, Raph had thought,  _well if they got through, then I should have no problem too!_

Spoiler alert, he was terribly  _wrong._

The six-year-old snapping turtle managed to get his shoulders through, albeit earning some rough but small cuts on his broad limbs. By the time his biceps brushed the beginning of the small tunnel, a bad feeling seemed to have settled inside his gut but _I'm already half way there so there's no point in turning back right?_ He continued to wiggle what he thought had been the direction known as foreward, kicking his back legs against the ground to try and push his torso foreward, only to realize  _he wasn't moving and oh my god what was I thinking trying to get through this tunnel I'm an idiot._

Raphael didn't see what the problem was back them, only collecting small hints from different occasions that occured in his life involving his size and storing them deep in his mind, where he would just forget about them. And now, looking back at all those snippets of his past; the innocent little Raph who didn't really care what he looked like, who would just shrug it off and smile because  _back then he loved himself despite the small set-backs_ ; present Raphael was  _jealous._

After that day, when Splinter finally managed to pick at the edges of the tunnel opening and helped Raphael in wriggling out of the tunnel opening, did the red-loving turtle really ponder about his body. He had ambled over to his room, shut the door, and just looked over himself in the full body mirror adorning his wall.

He just  _stared_ at every single little detail about himself that made him  _different_ and  _larger_ and  _unpleasantly bigger_ than his siblings.

Back then, in the good old days when he was innocent and didn't have a care for the burdens waiting to crush his shoulders, tiny Raphael just shrugged it off with the same thought;  _I'm perfect._

So when did our large snapping turtle stop reciting that heart-felt line?

When had he actually stopped and considered what was  _wrong_ with him?

And when did Raphael finally come to the conclusion that, in fact, wasn't perfect? That he was the complete opposite?

Now that Raph thought about it, the change had never actually been dramatic. His brothers would have easily picked it up if it had been. No, this change was like chipping stone from a wall, slowly breaking through to the other, more vulnerable side. 

The first small change had happened when he was around ten. Now this particular age is the age where your influence in the way you act and how you behave can be altered with a single observation. Loyalties to a practice of some sort, if not inforced, could easily dwindle and fall. But Raph, having only ever lived with his three brothers and his father at the time, wasn't really in danger of getting into an inappropriate or angsty attitude just by watching someone else.

After all, their first television set had come when he was around twelve.

But that didn't change the fact that he was  _young_ and  _obvious to whats good or bad._ The only strong influence would have come from their father, who only strictly monitored their training when they were young. Raph had a lot of growing up to do, and in mulktiple ways.

And his mind was still untampered with.

Which meant any thought Raph had was always taken into serious consideration, because he didn't know any better. He didn't  _know_ what was  _right and wrong and god children should never be doubting themselves_ so  _why the hell was he_?

Once, back when he was still the uncaring, easily-inspired ten-year old tot, Raphael and his family were coming back from exploring the older part of the sewers, where the walls were crumbling under the constant pressure above them, and the floor below was covered in an icky layer of grime that had taken a good hour to clean off his scales.

So when the exhausted family of five returned to their home, Mikey had just instantly collapsed. He was only eight back then, and wasn't used to venturing very far. He had whined about his sore and aching legs, and how he was content to just sleep right there, at the semi-large, circular doorway that led to the sewers, if it meant that he didn't have to walk any further. Splinter had sighed heavily, bending down to gather the tiny mutant in his arms, letting the small boxed-turtle fall into a light doze while the rest of them dragged along behind their rodent father to their rooms; the manditory showers they had all been dreaming of would have to wait until morning.

After tucking Mikey in his bed above Donnie's (back then they had shared a room because they had yet to clean out the rest of them; they settled with two bunks. Raph and Donnie at the bottom, while Leo and Mike slept up top.), Leo raised his arms expectantly aswell. Splinter plopped the red-striped slider into his bed, then tucked in Donnie. Raph had asked to be picked up the same way as his brothers, but his father simply shook his head and replied, "Sorry Red, papa is tired."

Although Raph had been deeply dissapointed in being rejected, he simply slipped in bed without returning his brother's calls for  _good night!_

After that night, Raph stopped asking to be carried, picking up on the fact that it wasn't just his father coincidentally alwasy being tired when he requested, but the matter of fact that his father could no longer _physically carry the eldest turtle._

Raph let it go easily, but the seed of self-concious doubt had already buried itself into the snapping-turtle's mind.

Now that Raph thought about it, as he gazed at his large exterior in the full-body mirror before him, he almost  _wished_ that Splinter had just told him that _all small boys outgrew their father's warm carried embrace_ , instead of subconciously leaving the first small imprints of doubt in his son's brain when he left Raph to ponder over negative aspects of his body when  _at his age kids are suppose to live themselves no matter what so what went wrong?_

What  _did_ go wrong?

Raph couldn't think of the answer. He had never been able to stop or slow down his dramatic growth.

Oh if only he had known, all those years ago, that snapping turtles were relatively much larger then their distant relatives.

Because of Raphael had known this valid information, then he would've never tried to starve himself when he was thirteen.

It started back when Mikey finally managed to get his hands on a large quantity of uncooked meat and fresh veggies from an abandoned shopping cart (poor chap who's money was wasted though). The orange-banded teen made sure he cooked up a large family dinner in 'celebration' for the upcoming ease of not needing to scrounge for food for the next week. Splinter had been quite sick that specific week, opting to go to sleep on a queasy yet empty stomach (despite Mikey's desperate attempts at getting the aged rat to eat). This left plenty of juicy steak and fresher than fresh salad for the four mutant turtles.

And it was at this particular brotherly meal that Raph noticed each of their food intakes.

Donnie ate the least, surprisingly, despite being the second oldest and second largest. He consumed jist two steak slices, instead munching on more lettuce leaves and tomatoes rather than the meat while listening to his younger brothers banter. Raph had shifted his attention Mikey, who surprisingly ate much more then Raph had previously predicted, almost matching up to Leo, who continously gulped down large quantities of meat on one sitting. But what was discouraging was the fact that Raph ate more then all of them. At first he made the excuse that he was older, but then he took his size into consideration.

If only he had known that  _his build was bigger your not fat Raph your perfect goddamit!_

Ignoring the small warnings blaring in the corner of his minds, Raph had abruptly cut off half his usual food consumption. It had started out fine too; take his normal amount of food, eat slowly, volenteer to clean up, throw away most of the contents of his plate, and done. And what made it worth the struggle and sharp pangs of hunger, was the fact that his _body wasn't growing so quickly anymore yay it's working!_ He was quite proud that he managed to continue this  _clearly unheathly routine,_ but what he didn't realize was that even though small results were showing for this terrible habit he was building, his reptilian body was furiously rebelling against this new diet. Add the low amount of vital vitamins and minerals entering his body, plus his rapid growth rate,  _and_ the constant bone-aching training; all this was the perfect recipe for  _disaster._

And all these variables kicked him right in the shell one day, while training. The four reptilian mutants had been instructed to work on their mid-air attacks using their lower torso, and right in the middle of the session, Raph had just  _collapsed._ His legs gave out under him as he sloppily landed after a terrible flip, and inevitable exhaustion and fatigue washed over him like water as his body gave up trying to stay upright.  _Not enough energy! Stupid stupid stupid_ it had screamed at him as Donnie checked him over and concluded his new found results. Dread clawed at his gut, followed by failiure, as the genius turtle forced Raph to no training for an entire week, and ordered Mikey to closely monitor Raph's daily intake of food.

So much for starving himself then.

After that day, the red-banded turtle had just... given up on trying to shrink himself. He knew his size was something he'd have to live with, and even though he hated his overly large shell and arms and  _muscles from all the tireless extra training you do_ Raph just accepted, albeit regretably, that there was nothing he could possibly do.

Fate seemed to have decided it was done watching the eldest mutant of the four suffer through his self-concious and hateful throughts, and gifted Donnie the blessed encyclopedia  _All About the World's Reptiles._

The world really loved pulling it's inhabitants feelings, didn't it.

Even now, the conversation three years ago still pulled a smile on Raph's lips as he continued to scan the mirror, which reflected him with a new light.

_"Mikey, you're a boxed turtle. Which kinda' explains a lot, when you take in the fact that your the only one who can completely retract into your shell." Donnie had explained._

_"Yay! That's... a good thing, right?"_

_"If you think total protection for all your limbs a good thing, then yes."_

_Mikey cheered as Donnie explained to Leo that he was indeed a red-striped slider; elaborating on how that's probably the reason why his claws were the longest, and needed more regular trimming sessions, and also why he was always complaining about dry scales._

_"You're one of the more aquatic types of turtles." Donnie had read, balancing the large hard-covered book in one hand as he lazily pointed to the section where the 'fun facts about sliders' was located. Even Donatello, who barely cracked a genuine smile infront of his brothers, couldn't help but laugh as Leo's eyes glittered with the new knowledge that had been bestowed on him. He joined Mikey in the rapid exchange of excited facts they had previosuly no clue about._

_When Donnie had turned to Raph, who tried his best not to look too expectantly at the his immediate younger brother, the purple-masked turtle gazed over him with this knowing_ look.  _As if Donnie knew all along about Raph's insecurities he built on himself. A grin graced the genius turtle's face as he read aloud the information regarding 'snapping turtles'._

 _"The snapping turtle is one of the more larger types of turtle, adorning a relatively bulkier appearance, with their large spikes and muscle mass compared to other turtles." And when Donnie looked back up, it was as if he was saying_ "see, your perfectly normal and cool and you clearly don't need to change yourself you big dork".

_Raph had just laughed._

And now, presently, where Raph looked over the numerous spikes and bulk of his exterior shape, it really  _did_ make him laugh. 

"Raph! Dinner's ready!" Leo shrieked from the living room, followed by Raph shouting a simple  _Coming!_. Raphael stretched his arms high above his head, sighing in pleasure as he earned a few pleasurable pops in his shoulders and neck. Time to claim his rightfuk plate of food that will probably be stolen in less then five minutes if he didn't hurry up. Moving away from the mirror and stepping out of the room, the large snapping turtle quickly made his way to the kitchen, where he narrowly saved his precious food from being picked at by Leo and Donnie while Mikey laughed. Holding his plate high above his head, Raph rejoiced in the sounds of his brother's laughter as he kept his portion of roasted chicken and lentils out of armslength from his younger siblings, thanking his height for the safe leverge.

Because when it cane to Mike's roasted chicken, there were no risks that could be taken. Regardless, that didn't mean he couldn't be a rouge for himself. With quick reflexes, Raphael snatched at the cut string of meat laying innocently on Leo's plate, plopping it into his mouth and chewing loudly. The red-striped slider sat in sheer shcok before his face contorted into something between indignition and false-hatred.

"RAPH!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raph's body type and size is gaining a large amount of hate, so let's give our big, beautiful snapping turtle some love.  
> Also if you find any spelling errors in this hastily written work, it would be graciously appreciated if you let me know! There are only so many times I can read my own writting over.  
> :)

**Author's Note:**

> ;)


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